


Of Squirrels and Stab Wounds

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Apologies, Attraction, BAMF Loki (Marvel), Based on historical events, Bruises, Elf Tony Stark, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Frostiron Bingo Round 1, Getting Together, Humor, Injury, Knives, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Has A Temper, M/M, Magic, Misunderstandings, Negotiations, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Royalty, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trapped, Tree Climbing, Understanding, Warning: Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23801908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Climbing up a tree was possiblynotLoki’s best plan of escape after stabbing King Anthony of Alfheim in the leg– but, now that he’s up there, he’ll just have to negotiate.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 50
Kudos: 457





	Of Squirrels and Stab Wounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabentochter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/gifts), [STARSdidathing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing/gifts).



> This was the result of a conversation with Sesil and Stars, there's a few more details at the end if you're curious xD  
>   
> And it is also for my FI Bingo, ~~I keep forgetting to post these,~~  
>  **Square G3** — [Image prompt.](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/NsRLOV4pHyk/maxresdefault.jpg)

The surface of the tree was rough under Loki’s fingers, leaving splinters in his skin and slivers of bark under his fingernails to join the drying blood that was not his own. Pieces of wood slithered down to the ground as his boots brushed over the branch below, trying to find purchase to make up for the way that his fingers were clinging desperately.

His perch was a _long_ way up– it needed to be, for this to have any kind of success. And he knew that he was being ridiculous. The magical barrier placed around the Royal Palace of Alfheim was more than enough to keep him from skywalking out, but it didn’t stop him from using his seiðr _entirely_. He just as well could have made himself invisible, and avoided the guards that way instead of scurrying up a tree like a Nornsforsaken _squirrel_ —

But, there _may_ have been a smidge of panic involved in his flight, and he had simply _run away–_ and then, when he’d seen the tree… well, at the time it had seemed like a Nornssend.

Now, as the guards poured out of the castle and ran en masse toward his tree, it just felt like he’d got himself caught in a trap.

But, like a cornered wolf, _trapped_ was when Loki was at his most dangerous—

And he wasted no time in throwing out his hand, a blast of seiðr leaving his body and exploding upon the ground right before the guards, causing the whole line of them to come skidding to a rather decisive stop.

“Don’t come any closer,” Loki warned, his raised palm glowing enough with his green seiðr that he was sure they would be able to see it, even though the thick leaves. “I _will_ continue to attack you.”

“You’re going to have to come down eventually, Prince Loki!” One of the elven guards called. “And when you do—”

“I will _not_ ,” Loki snapped– though it was more a vie for time than anything else. He knew his situation was dire– he knew they were _right_. He couldn’t stay up in this tree in the palace gardens forever. Eventually, he _would_ have to go down, and the moment he did they would throw him in the dungeons for what he had done.

Not, of course, that it had been unprovoked. But as a royal himself, he knew _very well_ how little provocation mattered when it came to threatening the ruler of a realm. If they caught him, his head would lose all connection to his shoulders and that would be that. Perhaps he could _hope_ for leniency, given that he was a prince of Asgard, but… for a crime such as this? No. Even a foreign royal – especially one who was not even first in line for their respective crown – would receive the highest of punishments for attacking the king’s person.

And Loki knew what Thor would do here– he would summon Mjölnir and fight his way out. But Loki was _not_ Thor, and besides. Resorting quickly to violence was what had got him into this situation in the first place.

Perhaps there was an option here. After all, he’d seen the awe the elves had held when he’d put his seiðr on display– and they didn’t know what he was capable of. Perhaps he could bluff his way out of it, use his skill with words to pull himself from the otherwise inescapable situation.

So, instead of shooting another blast of seiðr down at the guards—

“I will not go anywhere until you bring King Anthony to me, and he gives me my pardon,” Loki shouted down to them. “And until this happens, I will continue to terrorise you all with spells.”

The guards all looked unconvinced, and Loki groaned. It was moments like these that Loki _actually_ wished he had brought Thor with him– not a common thought when on diplomatic meetings, but. A single person on his side really might have come in useful.

But if his wits were all he had, then… that was that.

“Well?” he asked. “Your answer?”

“It’s not going to happen,” the guard at the front said– and he lifted his foot as if to take a step forward, but then put it back down again, clearly thinking better.

“I can continue firing at you, if you would prefer,” Loki snapped, raising his hand again– and when it did not look as if they were going to budge, he gave them a warning shot. Not much, just enough of a spell that the breeches of the first line of guards all ended up around their ankles. Then– “ _Your answer?”_ he snarled. 

The guard turned to the man beside him.

“Go and get King Anthony.”

Loki let out a relieved breath. It should buy him some time to think of what to say in his own defence, because fetching the king would take them a while. King Anthony was no doubt currently in the infirmary, receiving much-needed medical care, and he would likely not be willing to leave his sick bed to speak to the man who had put him there—

“No need. I’m already here.”

Loki’s eyes widened as he saw someone pushing their way to the front of the crowd, walking with a rather pronounced limp. He was still wearing the same clothing that he had been before, his dark red armour matching the colour of the makeshift bandage that was wrapped firmly around his upper thigh. Loki couldn’t help but wince when he saw it– though only because of the consequence it had wrought, not because he regretted inflicting the wound in the first place. King Anthony had more than _deserved_ a knife to the leg, for what he had tried to do.

“Prince Loki,” King Anthony said, his voice a little hoarse– which was probably a result of the thick ring of bruises that circled his throat. Loki couldn’t see them from the distance and through the leaves, but… he knew that they were there. “Come down from the tree so we can talk properly.” 

Loki bared his teeth, not caring that none of the guards below would be able to see it. “I will _not,”_ he hissed.

The King of Alfheim sighed, audibly enough that even Loki heard him. “Leave, all of you,” he said. “I would speak to Prince Loki alone.”

“No,” Loki replied sharply. “I would have your apology and your pardon in front of your guards, so that you cannot go back on it.”

“You would try to order me?” Anthony asked, sounding almost incredulous.

“No, of course not,” Loki said. “I would, however, like to get out of this _alive.”_

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you attacked me,” Anthony suggested– though his voice was light enough that it didn’t appear to be a threat. Nonetheless, it scratched at Loki the wrong way—

And… _perhaps_ his answer could have been a little more tactful, but given the circumstances he doubted that even his _mother_ would have been able to maintain her composure.

So—

“Before _I_ attacked _you?”_ Loki asked. “My, that is rich, your highness.”

“Come now, Loki, I thought we were on first name terms—”

“Did you?” Loki asked harshly. “And what other things did you _think_ we were? What things were you expecting from me?”

“I thought I was being obvious,” Anthony said loudly– almost _shouting_ , now. “I asked you to my _bedroom—”_

“I believed that you wished to continue business,” Loki replied. “Why else would you wish to speak with me privately? In my experience, the only reason to speak to another royal alone is either for business or an assassination attempt.”

“Why– why in the Nine would I try to assassinate you in my _room?”_ King Anthony asked, sounding utterly flabbergasted. “If I was going to assassinate you, I would at _least_ be sneaky enough to do it in a less obvious location. And besides, the mess alone—”

“Then you _were_ trying to… to—”

“Loki, I wanted to—”

“—to _assault_ me,” Loki hissed. “Is this why you wanted your guards to leave? Do they not know the kind of man you are, asking others up to your rooms so that you can have your way—”

“Whoa, now that’s not what I was trying to do either,” King Anthony exclaimed– and through the leaves, Loki could just about see him holding up his hands as if in surrender. “No freaking _way._ Loki– _Prince_ Loki, that’s… do you, truly think so little of me?”

“Perhaps,” Loki muttered– and then he spoke a little louder. “Why _did_ you call me to your rooms, then? If not to murder or assault me?”

“Is it not _obvious?”_ Anthony’s voice actually cracked on that– and Loki heard movement below the tree. He glanced down to see that Anthony was coming closer, right up to the trunk. He had to tilt back his head to be able to see Loki, but it meant that he would be able to see him far clearer than from where he had been standing before. “Loki,” he said, speaking slowly as he reached out to place one of his hands upon the bark of the tree. “I asked you to my rooms because I _wanted_ you there, because– I’ve been watching you all this time and I think you’re _gorgeous_ , and I’d hoped that… maybe you wouldn’t be so _opposed_ to spending time with me in my bedroom.” Anthony sighed. “Clearly, I was wrong. And I am sorry. I should have asked properly.”

Loki blinked– and then he ducked his head down a little, so that he could see Anthony a little more clearly. “You…” he paused, thinking of a way to put it that would distinguish _this_ intention from what Loki had assumed before. “You wanted _me_ to want you?”

“I had rather hoped that you did already.” Anthony shook his head for a moment before looking back up the tree with renewed determination. “And Loki, I really _am_ truly sorry. I want to– no, I _do_ apologise for asking you to my rooms without being clear about my intentions,” he said, sounding so terribly sincere that Loki found himself sliding back down the branches a little, just so that he could read Anthony’s expression more clearly. “And I apologise for trying to kiss you without asking first. And when you– well, when you grabbed me around the neck and tried to choke me, I shouldn’t have said– well, I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

Loki actually _smiled_ at that– at the time, Anthony’s comment about how the situation was _turning a little kinky_ had been what had made Loki move from fingers around Anthony’s throat to a knife in the meat of his thigh, but now? It was almost… endearing.

Norns. Loki swallowed, trying to wet his throat as he thought about what might have happened if he had taken a moment to _stop_ and _think_ instead of acting like Thor and pulling out his blade at the first opportunity.

“I really am _sorry_ , Loki,” Anthony continued– and the more he said it, the more difficult Loki found it to hold on to his anger… the more difficult it was not to want to just give in. Especially when Anthony added– “And I swear, you will suffer no consequences for this. None at all. If you wish to return to your realm and never come here again, then you may do so at no negative impact upon Alfheim’s relations with Asgard. And should you wish to continue to visit the palace, then you may do that as well, and whether or not you see _me_ will be your own decision. For this was _my fault,_ and I will _not_ see any harm come to you. Not in my kingdom. Not as a result of my mistake. Not _ever.”_

“But, T– Your highness,” one of the guards muttered, moving closer to his king as he apparently found what he needed to say more important than his fear of Loki’s seiðr. “The law clearly states that anyone who threatens your—”

“Does it _look_ like I give a rat’s arse about the law?” Anthony snapped at him. “ _No_. Prince Loki did nothing wrong, do you understand?”

“But he—”

“No.” Anthony seemed to soften a little as he sighed. “I was the one who fucked up here, Rhodey. This is my problem, okay? Let me fix it.”

The guard nodded at that, and finally backed away.

Then Anthony looked back up to Loki, and when he spoke, his voice was soft.

“Do you mind… if the guards leave now? If you would prefer they stay, then that is fine as well.”

And, drawing in a deep breath– “I don’t mind,” Loki said. The way that Anthony treated his guards and servants had always intrigued him– even during meetings with him over the course of this visit, Loki had noticed that Anthony didn’t _tell_ them what to do. Generally, he asked. And while most of the Nine might have watched this conversation between king and guard and seen _weakness_ in the way that a subject was willing to challenge the ruler, Loki only saw a system that allowed not only accountability, but… improvement.

It was something he had hoped for Asgard, something he had _tried_ to get his brother to see, and had tried to ask his mother to attempt to explain to Thor because– governing worked _better_ when you listened to the people instead of throwing empty tankards at their heads.

Seeing this from Anthony worked to impossibly _both_ calm Loki’s heart and start it racing anew. Because this spoke not only to the kind of man that Anthony was, but also to the sincerity of his apology.

And so, throwing caution to the wind– the moment the guards were gone from the garden Loki began to climb back down the tree, his boots and fingers dislodging a little more bark as he went. The tree really had been a good choice– the branches were far enough apart that an Aesir like Loki could reach from one to the next, but the elves, with their shorter build, would not have easily made the climb. Anthony watched his descent with a growing smile that drew Loki’s gaze. It really was a nice smile, the kind of smile that lightened his whole expression, that brought an excited glint to his eyes that worked to reassure him that Anthony truly _did_ —

Loki’s gut leapt up his throat as one of his feet missed a branch, and he wasn’t able to catch hold of something with his hands in time—

And before he could throw out a cushion of seiðr to catch him—

Warm arms were around his waist, and he was staring up into Anthony’s shocked and worried eyes.

“Are you all right?” Anthony asked, his still-hoarse voice laced with honest concern.

Loki didn’t really trust himself to speak– and he didn’t really like the way he could feel his cheeks warming, either. Of course this was happening. Of _course_ he had to fall from the tree, on top of everything else—

Anthony winced as Loki struggled to get back on his feet, and Loki winced with him, not having thought about that in his hurry to stand. Anthony had caught him, even though he was injured. Anthony had _chased after him_ , even though Loki had _stabbed him_.

And not only that– the ring of bruises around Anthony’s neck truly did look rather horrific, outlines of Loki’s fingers marking that otherwise smooth skin.

“Sorry,” Anthony said, averting his gaze as his hands fell away from Loki’s waist. “I shouldn’t have– I should have thought how you’d—”

“Why are you apologising?” Loki asked, not quite able to leave that go.

“I believe I have rather a lot of reasons for that,” Anthony muttered—

“But, you just caught me,” Loki said. “For that, I should be _thanking_ you. And…” he cleared his throat, and forced himself not to look away. “You already apologised sufficiently for the rest.”

Anthony’s eyes flashed back up in surprise. “You think so?” he asked.

And Loki… well, he still couldn’t quite get past those bruises. His hand rose as if on its own accord– and he didn’t touch, all too aware of how tender they must be. But his fingers hovered over marked skin, matching their own, violent shape. “I think that it might be _my_ turn to apologise,” Loki murmured, his hand falling to his side as he glanced back up to meet Anthony’s gaze once more. “I should not have assumed so suddenly. And I should _not_ have moved to harm you so quickly when I—”

“Thank you for saying that,” Anthony said. “Even though there truly is no need. I tried to kiss you without your permission nor even any warning, and you did what any of us would have. I could have done _without_ the knife, but—”

“I am sorry for that as well,” Loki said, his gaze flickering to the bloody bandage on Anthony’s leg for but a moment. “I should not have done it.”

“And yet, I deserved it.” Anthony smiled as he spoke, and it made Loki soften all the more. Anthony’s continuing assurance that Loki did not have to apologise for a thing made it all the clearer that Anthony truly hadn’t given his apology to attempt to guilt Loki into making his own– he had done so because he _meant_ it. And if Loki had any remaining doubts as to Anthony’s character after that, then they all melted away.

“Thank you, for your apology,” he said, his voice a little soft. And he _shouldn’t_ be feeling this way, given all that had happened – surely, having Anthony’s literal blood on his hands should have brought him past the stage of awkward nervousness? – but he had to clear his throat once again before he finished what he wanted to say. “And I suppose that your earlier offer has expired?”

He felt like a simple gust of wind could have knocked him over, but he did his best to hang on to his composure all the same– because, despite everything, this was still going better than it had been looking at the start.

And maybe he should have cut his losses. Maybe, he should have taken Anthony’s offer and gone back to Asgard but—

Remembering Anthony’s smile, and thinking on the opportunity that he had lost because of his brashness…

Which, really, _hadn’t_ been his fault. He just– he wasn’t _used_ to those sorts of offers. What he’d told Anthony before was true. No one had ever– why would anyone _want_ him like that when– well, on Asgard, _men_ didn’t—

He hadn’t expected Anthony to kiss him. That was all.

And perhaps… perhaps his composure was not as poised as he thought, for Anthony’s curious expression unfolded into something a little more gentle. “Loki,” he said. “When I asked you into my rooms, I did it because I liked the way you looked, and because I wanted to see if your tongue was as sharp in bed as it is in a meeting. But now, I can see that you’re more than that, and there is so much more to you that draws me in.”

“Because I choked you, stabbed you, and then ran away?” Loki asked, a little incredulous. “If that is the case, then I sincerely worry that the qualities you find attractive are a little unhealthy.”

Anthony shook his head in obvious amusement. “No. Because you’re clearly not afraid to stand up for yourself, even when it might have consequences. Because instead of surrendering or trying to leave the realm entirely you had the guts to threaten an entire squadron of my palace guards and then ordered _me_ to follow your demands in my own kingdom. And because I can’t help but think that a person who does something like that must be pretty incredible.” Then, as if he hadn’t nearly just reduced Loki to a staring mess, Anthony grinned wolfishly. “But, if you _do_ want to hold me down and then stab me with something decidedly more pleasurable than—”

“Don’t,” Loki groaned– though he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t smiling.

Anthony was smiling as well. “Let’s just hope there isn’t any running away this time?”

And when Loki gave a nod, Anthony’s smile turned sweet.

“Well then, in that case– let’s try this again, shall we?” Anthony asked– and then, to Loki’s complete and utter _confusion_ , he bent down and pressed his lips to the back of Loki’s hand. “Prince Loki,” he said, his voice soft. “Would you agree to allow me to court you? Not in my rooms, and not, well, not _just_ in my bed, but out where everyone will be able to see us? Will you agree to allow me to court you _properly?”_

Loki’s breathing felt a little shallow, and he felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest. Because it would seem that somehow, someway– with a knife and a threat, Loki had managed to ensnare not only Anthony’s attraction, but also his _affection_.

Despite all that had happened, Loki did not even have to think about his answer.

“Yes,” he said. “I think I would like that very much.”

And this time, when Anthony leaned forward slow enough for Loki to meet him half way and their lips came together in a sweet kiss– there were no knives or threats involved at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Months, years, centuries later, Anthony is still bragging about the scar on his leg to everyone, and he traces it lovingly when he’s in bed with Loki.  
>   
> "This is my love stab. You stabbed me, and I knew right away that you were the one I wanted to marry.”  
>   
> It never fails to make Loki smile.  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> This is loosely based on a true story, believe it or not. If you have never read about [Dracula’s gay little brother](https://dionovertoun.wordpress.com/2017/06/28/radu-the-queer-brother-nobody-cares-dracula-had/) then you really, really need to xD


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